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famished.”
    It's so unexpected that I'm smiling like an idiot.
    He's so awkward that it's clear he's unaccustomed to having company. His hug was rather nice. Firm, reassuring, very more-ish.
    He grins at me, snatching up my hand and tugging me to a table around the corner in his personal cave. Waiting in the alcove is a round table large enough for three giants. Lordy, I feel like a newborn in need of a highchair.
    The aroma of stew hits the black hole burrowing through my stomach lining and it responds in loud appreciation, forcing a blush to burn up my cheeks.
    He pulls out my chair for me, then seats himself, tucking in with zilch ceremony beforehand.
    Sampling it, it's scrumptious, juicy with gravy and a hint of spice to add the perfect dash of bite to every mouthful.
    Between blows on the spoon, half the size of his ladle, I ask the next logical question. “So what happens now? What is the plan exactly?”
    “ There is no real plan other than to get you settled in and comfortable.”
    “ But what about my stuff? I can't just fall off the face of the planet.”
    Sitting back, resting hands on his thighs, he surveys me, “Emma, if you want to leave I won't stop you.”
    “No, that's not what I mean. Shit dude, this is like an adventure and I'm game for a while at least, but I have responsibilities and need my clothes and... all that.”
    I have too many questions to leave now, starting with my dad.
    It's only Friday so I have the weekend in my favor.
    He indicates the passage out of his quarters with a nudge of his head, “Your belongings have been gathered and are waiting in the guest room.”
    Separation anxiety robs my appetite. I don't know if I'm brave enough to sleep by myself in such a strange place. “Am I living here now?”
    “ I hope so.”
    Three words sharper than a stake to the brain. Three simple words laced with enough suggestion to make me giddy.
    What would that mean? What if after a week I hate it here?
    Leaning on the table with his elbows either side of his dinner he covers my forearm with a heavy hand, “Em, listen to me. I wasn't kidding about watching you. Your home has been vacated, the kit you took to the Fallen Fraternity has been removed from your cabin, everything you own is in the chamber next door to mine. I knew you'd want someone familiar close enough to respond if you needed support, but for all intents and purposes this is a new beginning for you if you'll accept it.”
    Staring at the pale skin on his hand holding mine down as effectively as concrete, I speak without meeting his eyes, “Don't you think that was presumptuous of you?”
    “ Should I have left you pining for a man who ran off back to society with a redhead? Should I have abandoned you to your degrading romance with solitude? Or should I have recognized a kindred in pain and vowed to rectify her isolation because she knows she's different but couldn't understand why? Knowing that so close to her is a world waiting for her to rejoin her own kind.”
    “ He ran off with Desiree? When?!”
    He exhales so heavily the candle stuck in the center of the table flickers frenetically. “I shouldn't have said that.”
    “Yes you should! That bastard! And he was never going to tell me? How many knew, watching me with silent pity, calling me pathetic to live in pointless hope!”
    Black eyes darken, his jaw ticking again while the veins in his neck pump out, his mood betraying him, “It wasn't pathetic, it was loyal. That's who you are Emma. You believe the best of everyone which is why they hurt you with such ease. You are an idealist and despite him betraying you, he didn't have the courage to watch your eyes by facing you with his intentions. It was easier to run away than stand in the reality of your broken heart up close and personal.”
    The crushed syndrome comes back strong and I glare at the grain of the pine table trying not to cry. He could have left a note! Asshole.
    Releasing my arm he rubs his thumb knuckle